


When We’re G(r)ay and Old

by americanhoney913



Series: Inktober 2019 [7]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Day 8, F/F, Future Fic, Inktober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 21:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: InktoberDay 8: FrailBecky and Charlotte, after a lifetime of wrestling and other things, have settled down.





	When We’re G(r)ay and Old

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for skipping Enchanted, but I was having a hard time picking between so many ideas. I'll go back eventually and it will be in its place as Day 7.
> 
> Please enjoy!

The whole world smells like honeysuckle and peaches with a hint of rain from the afternoon shower. Charlotte leans back against the woven wicker of her favorite lounge chair. The sun slowly descends over the mountains, lighting the lake near the edge of their property on fire. She pulls her silver and gold hair up into a ponytail, twisting it around the ends fingers before putting it behind her, listening to Becky as the other woman makes her way out of the house. Her cane knocks against the wood and Charlotte hears the sounds of pots and pans, of Cassie and Reid in the kitchen, just before the door slams shut behind Becky.

Becky grunts as she settles into the rocking chair beside Charlotte’s. She reaches over and flicks the blonde’s cowboy hat, hanging over one of the “ears” of her chair, with a chuckle, only to wince when she straightens.

“Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” Reid says as she steps out onto the porch, the screen door swinging shut behind her with a horror-movie screech. She puts a pitcher of ice tea on the table, ice cubes clinking against the glass and the lemon slices floating inside making the air smell like citrus. “Layla made you this. Ma, don’t drink it. Simon dumped a whole bottle of simple syrup in there when she wasn’t looking. Kid’s almost as much of a handful as Cassie.”

Becky rolls her eyes, running a hand through her short brown-gray hair. Reid glares at her ma, Charlotte snickering in the background, and makes an I’m-watching-you gesture before she goes back inside.

Becky automatically reaches for the pitcher.

“Don’t even think about it,” Charlotte hisses as she pulls the ice tea closer to herself. She knows Becky can’t bend that far, isn't as flexible as she used to be.

“Come on, Char, no fair!” Becky pouts.

The blonde pours herself a generous cup and drinks her tea as she watches Becky stew, her brown eyes sparkle with a mix of faux anger and mirth.

“Pass me the pitcher, will ya?” Becky tries again.

“No. Simon put too much sugar in it. The doctor says you’re at risk of a heart attack if you have too much sugar.”

“Fuck what the doc says. Charlotte. My grandbabies made me a drink and I’mma drink it.”

“Reach for it one more time and I’ll throw you over the balcony. Or drag you into the living room and show you that project Jesse made for her 9th grade final. About high blood pressure. I’m sure it’s around here--”

“I’m comfy right where I am, t’anks. All I need is me ice tea.”

The sounds of splashing and children’s screaming laughter echoes through the orchard of peach trees, the lowing of cows and bleeding goats following. Charlotte takes a long slow sip of tea, teasing. She hums at the taste, trying to swallow the disgust at just how sweet it is.

“Did you even hear what Reid said? You could have a heart attack.”

“Ya know, Charlie, I can still kick yer arse.”

“With your bad bones? No way. You crackle like a bag of chips every time you move.”

“Hey! Yer older ‘n me. And… and when  _ you _ move, I’m expectin’ ya ta start glowin’.”

Charlotte snorts into the ice tea and Becky laughs. A breeze blows through the peach trees, rustling the leaves. Charlotte sighs and she gets out of her chair, leaving her ice tea far from the brunette’s grabby hands. The blonde pulls her housecoat tighter around herself and steps behind Becky’s chair. She rests her hands on the back, delicate yet gnarled fingers wrapping around the wood.

“I’m gonna call the grandkids in for dinner,” she says as she presses a kiss to Becky’s forehead. “Don’t touch the ice tea or I’ll have to Moonsault you into next week.” She uses the rails to help her as maneuvers down the stairs.

“I’d put you in a DisArm-Her first, Queenie.” Becky throws her the bird and Charlotte’s laughter lingers long after she’s gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn't old Charlynch just the cutest!
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought.
> 
> Tomorrow: Swing


End file.
